An Avengers Christmas Miracle
by Ultrawoman
Summary: One-Shot. All Bucky wants is a happy Christmas and the chance to make amends. It doesn't seem likely that a guy like him could ever find his place, he certainly never could've imagined helping someone else find theirs, especially not her... (12th in the multi-fandom Christmas Miracle series).


**A/N: I'm not sure that this will be of any interest to anyone else, but it was something I really wanted to write and it would seem wrong not to share now it's done. Takes place the first Christmas after Endgame.**

_**(Disclaimer: All recognisable characters belong to Marvel and many other folks who aren't me).**_

An Avengers Christmas Miracle

It was supposed to be a good time, all family and fun. That was how the stores and the commercials pitched it and Bucky supposed he could understand the appeal. When he recalled the old days, Christmases from a long while back, knowing how everything was going to be, that he really was just going to be warm and safe in his own home with parents who loved him, carols by the fire, the whole nine yards, that made him smile. He knew what Christmas was supposed to be, both then and now. He and Steve were raised good Catholic boys, for whatever that was worth to anyone these days. After everything that had happened, it was amazing to Bucky that he had any faith left at all, but he did, and he figured at this point in his long and strange life, it was probably about time he had something to celebrate come Christmas time. Shame it hadn't quite worked out that way.

Standing outside the church, the lazy wind trying to go through him rather than around, Bucky looked up at the stained glass and sighed. He really couldn't say exactly what brought him to Midnight Mass tonight. It wasn't as if he could stand before God with a clear conscience anymore, but if he still believed, if he repented for the bad he'd done, all sinners were welcome, if he recalled his lessons right.

There were other places he could've gone, it was just that none were where he really wanted to be. To be more accurate, none were really _when_ he wanted to be. For as long as Steve was still around, Bucky figured he could handle the modern world if he must. It had its advantages, the technological advances were amazing, some of the food was pretty good, and he did have friends here, but it wasn't the same. Though Steve still existed in this world, of course, he wasn't the guy Bucky knew, in more ways than one. It was too tough to try to pretend, and there was no way back to the way things had been once upon a time.

Heading inside, Bucky found a smile for the familiarity of the sights and sounds within the walls of the church. He had deliberately chosen a small place, away from anywhere that anyone might know him. Not that he knew all that many people that were still alive these days, but still. All the other so-called Avengers would be with their own people tonight and tomorrow. Sam with his parents and siblings, Clint with his wife and kids, Pepper and Morgan with Happy, trying to make Christmas work without Tony. Everybody with somewhere to go, somebody to love.

Bucky looked towards the alter, then lowered his head to say a silent prayer. He didn't have to wait long for the service to begin, his mind wandering once or twice to memories of masses of the past, when he and Steve were kids, teens, young men eager to go out and find their place in the world. Bucky never thought his place would be here, but it was and he had to make it work somehow.

If he had a prayer to make tonight, it was for someone who understood. The closest person who might would've been Steve. It was tough to find another so unique, who knew what it was to be used as Bucky had been, to have done what he did, to love and hate the life they'd known and the world around them in equal measure.

As the service ended and the few attendees trailed out of the church, Bucky watched them all. Couples holding hands with hope and love in their eyes, families with children yawning from the late hour, everybody with somebody else, contented, at peace. Bucky tried so hard not to envy them, to be glad for them, to only hope someday, somehow to be so lucky.

After a while, there was just him left in amongst the rows of pews. No, Bucky realised, there was one other. A figure on the other side of the aisle and about a half dozen rows in front of him. She was all in black, a shawl draped over her head, shivering a little, possibly cold or even crying. If Bucky had to guess, he would say it was probably an older lady, as alone this Christmas as he was. The engrained lessons of his childhood made him want to go to her, make sure she was okay, to walk her home safely or get her a cab maybe. He got up to do just that then faltered. His eyes went to the door. He could just as easily leave. The priest would go to the woman, help her if she needed anything, he told himself, and yet.

Turning back, Bucky moved down the aisle, stopping at the end of the row and leaning on the ornate post there.

"Uh, excuse me," he said politely. "Do you...? I mean, did you need some help or...?"

Any further words he might have come up with died in his throat when she suddenly turned her head and met his eyes. At least she looked almost as surprised as he felt. Almost, but not quite.

"Hello, Barnes," said Natasha, swallowing hard right after. "It's been a while... at least, I think it has."

Bucky felt his legs trying to buckle and sat down fast at the end of the pew just a few feet from a person he had to be imagining. A frown came over his face that was so deep it actually hurt his head. Natasha couldn't be here, not really, but this was no case of mistaken identity. She knew his name and as far as he could tell she was no mirage either.

"How are you...?"

"Wish I could tell you." Nat shook her head, pushing the shawl down from her head, letting her red hair spill out over her shoulders. "And for once, I'm not keeping secrets," she said with half a smile that soon faded to nothing. "I have no idea how I got back here, I just did."

Bucky nodded like he understood, but truthfully, he had no clue what to say or even think. Natasha had died in pursuit of the soul stone, that was what Steve had said. It required a life, a sacrifice of the one you loved most, and so, Nat and Clint had fought over the chance to lay down their life for the other. As always, Romanov got her way in the end and Clint came back without her. How she was back, apparently, even she didn't know, but actually, Bucky might.

"Steve," he said so suddenly that he surprised himself. "He, uh, he took the stones back, put them exactly where they got them from. I guess it... reversed things?"

Natasha looked thoughtful and then she nodded. "I'll buy it. Makes more sense than anything I could come up with," she admitted, shivering violently and hugging herself tighter.

"You okay?" Bucky checked.

"Sure," she told him, looking anything but somehow. "It's the darndest thing, but since I got back, I'm just cold, most of the time. Like there's something in me that won't warm up. Crazy for a girl who was raised in Russia, right?" she joked, a defence mechanism in bad circumstances and they both knew it.

Bucky didn't even pause, just stripped off his coat and shoved it around Nat's shoulders before she could protest. Her eyes dipped down to his arm as it moved across her body, the arm that wasn't really a part of him. He moved to pull it back but her hand landed on it and kept him within reach.

"Thank you," she said with the hint of a genuine smile. "I guess those manners they taught you boys back in the day never really go away, huh?"

"Guess not," he replied, smiling back at her. "You know, if you're cold, this probably isn't the best place to be. I have a place..." he said, tilting his head towards the door.

"You know, if we weren't in a church, and you weren't you, Sergeant Barnes, I'd think you were making improper suggestions," she told him.

It was probably intentional to see if he would blush. Bucky had seen her do the same thing to Steve. It occurred to him that she probably didn't know exactly what had happened there. She might not even know about Tony or exactly how the final battle went down, the end game of the war against Thanos. Here and now didn't feel like the place and time to tell her.

"If you need a place to go," he said again, making himself more plain this time, more serious than before, "I wouldn't exactly hate the company either."

Nat looked as if she were about to answer him, then changed her mind, her eyes drifting to the alter and the cross beyond. If he didn't know better, Bucky would say she had tears in her eyes, but it had to be a trick of the light.

"You think it's too late for us?" she asked. "You think people like us can really be saved?" she said, eyes finally returning to his own.

"Only way to find out is to keep on trying I guess." Bucky shrugged. "Has to be a reason you're back, right? Has to be a reason I'm still alive a hundred years after I was born."

"God moves in mysterious ways, huh?" she asked, not even looking like she was trying to make a joke anymore.

"You need any more proof than this chance meeting?" Bucky asked, gesturing between them with his free hand - she did still have a hold of his other arm after all, though she seemed to have forgotten.

"I guess I could use a place," she admitted then, "and a friend."

Bucky nodded, sliding out of her grip and out of the end of the pew. Offering his real hand to her this time, he smiled when Nat barely hesitated in taking hold and slipping out of the seat. She followed him out of the church and back into the world, that suddenly didn't feel quite so cold to either of them anymore.

The End

**A/N2: Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Seasons Greetings as is appropriate to you and yours :)**


End file.
